The SEAL's Christmas Twins. Laura Marie Altom

made matters worse. And here she’d thought Melissa and Mason’s wedding had been hard? This was a thousand times tougher.

      “Sure.” She managed to swallow past the emotional brick lodged in her throat. “You take Vanessa and a bottle and I’ll grab Vivian.”

      In front of the playpen, he scratched his head. “Love to do just that, only I don’t have a clue which one is Vanessa.”

      “You’ll learn. Although there are still times I’m not sure, Vanessa typically has a more laid-back disposition. Vivian has no trouble letting you know she’s displeased.”

      As if she knew her aunt was talking smack about her, Vivian upped the volume on her wail.

      He snorted. “Sounds like you and your sister.”

      For the first time since the funeral, Hattie genuinely smiled. “Never thought of it like that, but you nailed your assessment—which makes me an awful person, right?”

      “Not even close,” he said over the infant’s cry. “Melissa was a handful and were she here with us, she’d be first to admit it—with a proud smile.”

      “True.”

      When they each cradled an infant, they settled on the sofa in front of the fire.

      Hattie plucked off the twins’ hats and mittens, then gave Vivian her bottle. The sudden silence save for the fire’s crackle and the twins’ occasional grunts and sighs made for much-welcomed peace.

      “Sorry about what happened at my parents’. That was an ugly scene.”

      “No worries.” He shifted Vanessa to hold her in the crook of his other arm. “I don’t blame them for being upset—Alec’s folks, too. They’ve got to be feeling out of the loop.”

      “I suppose. But it doesn’t have to be that way. They’re welcome to see these two whenever they’d like. They chose to run back to Florida.”

      “I know, but think of this from their perspective. Alec used to be my best friend, then I caught him sleeping with my wife and never spoke to him again. Cindy and Taylor were like second parents to me. Growing up, I ate more dinners at their house than mine. Everything’s so mixed up, you know? Part of me was glad to see them at the funeral—at least until I remembered they were part of the enemy team. I imagine they feel the same?”

      “Probably.” Vivian had thankfully drifted off to sleep. Hattie gently leaned forward, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Wonder if my sister even talked about her will with Alec? Or her prophetic dreams?”

      “Guess we’ll never know.”

      On the surface, Mason’s words were simple enough, but the finality of that word—never—hit Hattie hard. Up until now, she’d been too wrapped up in the ceremony of her sister’s death to consider the impact of losing someone she’d dearly loved.

      At the hospital, during Melissa’s last hours, Hattie had stayed strong for her parents—especially her mom. Then there’d been planning the funeral and reception. Steeling herself for the reading of Melissa’s will. Now there was nothing left to do except begin her new life by essentially stepping into her sister’s.

      How many times when Melissa had been married to Mason had Hattie prayed for just such a thing?

      In light of her current situation, this fact shamed her. So much so that the tears she’d so carefully held inside now spilled in ugly sobs.

      After handing Vivian to Mason, Hattie dashed upstairs, not even sure where she was going, just knowing she needed to be alone.

      Chapter Four

      Swell.

      Mason glanced over his shoulder at Hattie’s departing back, then down at the two sleeping infants. What was he supposed to do now? How had he even landed in this impossible situation?

      From somewhere upstairs, a door slammed. But the house wasn’t solid enough to mask Hattie’s cries.

      His heart went out to her. Losing Melissa had to be tough.

      He’d have no doubt been upset himself if he hadn’t already mourned their relationship’s death. Then there was the stunt she’d pulled with her letter—the matchmaking bit. What the hell? Poor Hattie had plenty to be upset about, and he hoped she didn’t think he’d taken any of her sister’s ramblings seriously.

      “Ladies,” he mumbled to what amounted to maybe twenty pounds of snoozing babies, “I should probably check on your aunt, but that leaves me in a bind as to what to do with you.”

      They didn’t stir.

      Since he already cradled one, he made an awkward position change on the couch in order to scoop up the other. Holding both, he slowly rose, then headed for the kitchen, assuming the kiddy corral would be safe enough until he got back.

      Their little arms and legs jolted upon landing.

      The house was still on the chilly side, so he left them on their backs, wearing their coats.

      At the top of the stairs was a loft library he ventured through to gain access to a hall. He forged down it, intent on not just finding Hattie, but stopping her tears. The sound ripped through him. Took him back to when she’d been thirteen and broke her ankle after using scrap sheet metal for a sled. He’d carried her home and made sure she was okay back then and he’d sure as hell do the same now.

      He passed a bedroom, the nursery and a bath before reaching the one closed door Hattie had hidden behind. He opened it to step into what could only be the master. A miniversion of the living room’s A-frame window wall overlooked a spectacular snowy night scene.

      Hattie sat hunched over and crying on the foot of a king-size bed positioned to take maximum advantage of the view.

      Mason’s first thought should’ve been comforting her, but all he seemed able to focus on were Alec and Melissa. What they’d done in that cozy bed. How his wife and best friend had betrayed him to an unimaginable degree.

      Snapping himself out of his own issues with the deceased, he sat next to Hattie, easing his arm around her as naturally as he always had. “I’m sorry.”

      She cried all the harder, struggled to escape him, but he drew her closer, onto his lap, where he held her for all she was worth, all the while gently stroking her hair. “Shh...everything’s going to be okay.”

      “No,” she said with a sniffle and shake of her head. “Part of me feels like I did this. I hid so much resentment that she had not one amazing man, b-but two. Then she got the perfect babies I’d always wanted. H-her life was everything mine wasn’t. I used to wish I could be her—just for a day. But I never wanted her gone, Mason. I—I loved her so much....”

      Sobs racked Hattie’s frame, and for the first time since losing Melissa to divorce, Mason felt helpless. As a SEAL, he’d been trained to handle any contingency. Make flash life-or-death decisions, but this one had him stumped. How did he begin comforting Hattie when he harbored such ill will toward her sister and brother-in-law? Now that he was both legally and honor bound to care for their children?

      It was too much.

      “What if she’s somehow looking down on me? And knows I coveted what she had? But I never in a million years wanted it like this. She meant the world to me. More than anything when we were all kids, I wanted to be just like her. As an adult, I realized that wasn’t going to happen, but that didn’t stop the yearning. Still, I did love her. She has to know. Has to.”

      “I loved her, too, Hat Trick.” He used to call Hattie that when she’d challenged him to pond hockey. “For her to leave you her children, you have to know she loved you every bit as much?”

      She nodded.

      Drawing back, he lightly touched her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. Though the room was dark, moonlight reflecting off the snow reinforced the